Bitterness
by princessezzy
Summary: Something happens which forces the Tracy boys and those around them to examine their relationship with one of their brothers.
1. Scott

**A/N I was lying in bed one night when I was suddenly and viciously attacked by a plot bunny. The violent little devil just wouldn't leave me alone until I'd written it all down. It may be a bit confusing at first but all will have been revealed by the end.**

**Thanks so much to my beta who despite claiming she doesn't lile thunderbirds (then how can you claim John is your favourite, huh l'alice?!) indulges my obsession. She will one day take over the world with her gramma.**

**So here it is, a (hopefully) different take on two brothers thoughts on a certain other brother….**

**Bitterness**

_Scott_

Someone once asked me whether I was bitter. I remember my surprise - what did I have to be bitter about? The reply was a list of things that upset me, but bitter? Can't remember that coming into it; losing my mother at such a young age, having to constantly look after my brothers…but the one that really shocked me was when you were specifically mentioned.

I'm not saying you're a saint - I'm sure we're all pretty clear on that - but didn't you constantly annoy me with your whininess? Well_…_ annoy, I will admit to, but the way they said it… well, it seemed to hint at something more. Anger, perhaps. Bitterness that I constantly had to put up with it, surely? I got angry at that point; (and people say we're so different!) what right did this person have to judge you when they barely knew you? _They_ didn't know that for the first years of your life your father couldn't even look at you. _They_ didn't see the pain on your four-year-old face as he turned away again.

You might not remember it, but the first time you ever threw a temper tantrum was the first time Dad really paid attention to you. I remember the shock and elation you displayed so clearly for your Daddy to finally be noticing you; it was a moment of glory in your little, just beginning life. And you wanted it to happen again.

From that day on you would blow up at the smallest thing just so he would look at you. It may have bee in admonishment and anger but Daddy was looking at you! It earned you the title of the 'wild child' and the status of 'problem child' but that didn't matter to you; anything for those few moments of Daddy time. Isn't that twisted? We got to play with him and you got shouted at and punished.

Even after Dad got over your involvement in Mum's death you still continued; it was like a second nature by then. There's still the fear, though _you_ can't detect it that if you stop Daddy won't look at you anymore; that child's irrationality has never gone away and probably never will. But maybe it's because you've always lived with it that you don't notice…

I'm rambling, aren't I? There's just so much I want to say… a lifetime of little smiles that Daddy never saw.

Well… I guess if I'm ever going to think about our relationship now is perfect, so excuse me if I ramble some more. Dad never ignored me; I was the person he could rely on, the one he treated moreas his equal than his son. The eldest's right? Or is it unfair and really you should be the one jealous of me? Maybe you should be bitter. But you're not. You never were… now who's the angel?

There was another complaint about how immature you are. Why can't people concentrate on the good? Like how sunny you are. Charismatic, open, good-hearted, loyal…I could go on for ages about your good points but people like to focus on the bad, so I guess I'll address that.

If it's my job to be the oldest; responsible, reliable, calm, leader, then surely it's yours to be the youngest; fun, reckless, immature. It's simple logic really, like connect the dots. When Mum died my childhood was abruptly ended; I had a grieving father and four little brothers to look after. Mine was over, but yours was just beginning.

Maybe I felt I still had some childhood years all stored up - years that I couldn't use, so I gave them to you. It was the best present I could ever give you, no matter how much you loved that cherry-red ribbon on your very first car. Virgil's still got a few left, so maybe if you asked him nicely he'll give you those, and John never really had a childish childhood - he was always so serious - so there's tons there, and you can share them with Gordon. I'm not making any sense. I guess I'm trying to explain why I let you behave the way you did. I don't think I've ever told you to grow up, to be more mature, though most would say I should. It's actually quite nice to see you enjoying those years I gave you, like I'm living them through you.

I got a Mum and a shortened childhood; you got no mum, a Dad who blamed you for the lack of mum and an extended childhood. I'd say I got the better deal. I love you, you know, for being you. I don't know if you can hear my insane, incoherent thoughts but if you can then answer all our wishes, our hoping. Come back. Come back to me. You're my baby brother.

**A/N I hope you enjoyed it, my first serious thunderbirds fanfiction, review please!**


	2. Gordon

**A/N OK, when I first posted this I thought it was going to be just a one shot. My lovely reviewers thought differently. So, just to make things easier I've decided to give everyone a chapter to themselves for formatting sake.**

Here I sit, in the place you probably occupied just over a year ago, the tables turned. You're the one lying there, so still, tubes coming out of you, the beep of machines the only indicator you're alive. And here I am, at your bedside, sick with worry; desperately scared you're not going to come out of this one. Is this how you felt? I didn't give you enough credit.

It's weird, but sometimes I get the feeling people believe I want you to come out of this a scarred man. That I want you to feel the suffering I did. Bullshit. There's nothing I want more than for you to jump out of bed, laughing, asking us 'Why the long faces?' and then we'd all be… us again. But I know that's not going to happen. I saw it, you know, the whole thing. I saw your car take the corner wrong, flip over mid-air, the terrible pause before you crashed back to earth. A fraction of an inch, marginal human error, but in the stakes you play with it's enough. I'm so glad you didn't see my Hydrofoil go over. Or did you? I never asked. I didn't realise. Did you have to do this too?

It's funny that my accident happened first; you've always been the one who liked to stretch the speedometer, the one who took it far. Daring, extreme, dangerous. We should have known your luck wouldn't last; you don't lead a charmed life, despite what others might think. And now you're here, and now all I can do is wait. I won't be bitter if you come out of this smirking, without a scratch. Hell, I'll be ecstatic! You have to come back to us, Al. I can't be the youngest, that's your job and you're perfect at it. It's harder than people think, though you don't let on. And we love you for it.

**A/N Sorry to anyone who thought this was something new, Virgil's coming right up I swear!**


	3. Virgil

**A/N Thanks to all my reviewers who encouraged, badgered and helped me continue this story, it honestly wouldn't have happened without you and I just want to hug you all!**

I don't know what to say. I'm sitting here at your bedside, supposedly to spill my guts to you, and I don't know what to say. Sitting down I shift uncomfortably, looking at my hands. Anywhere but at you.

The need to talk is getting greater, if only to drown out the incessant beeping that's measuring your life. That makes me angry; what right does a machine have to measure your life? It's never seen you smile, it's never seen you laugh or cry. It doesn't know you from the most important things – like that you dread your birthday – to the little ones, like the fact you secretly love old-fashioned spy films, or you like your ice-cream with caramel sauce and sprinkles. And it wouldn't feel anything if your life was cut short.

No. I mustn't think like that. We've got to think positively as a family because God knows we can't even begin to deal with the thought that you might not… I can't say it. Coward, that's what I am. I can almost hear all Tracys, past and present, ribbing and jeering me because I can't say it. But doesn't that just sum up our whole relationship?

One day, when we were kids, you came and just sat by the piano when I was practicing and listened. That day it was just the two of us, which was rare in itself. I remember wondering if you were going to say anything, but you didn't. You just sat there and listened to me in silence. Eventually, it became our little routine, whenever it was just us, and we continued it throughout the years; from childhood to adulthood and everything in between.

At first I was slightly worried; here was a boy who around everyone else would scream, shout, stomp, argue and generally do anything to kick up a fuss. I won't pretend I know the reason why because even after knowing you your whole life I still don't, but whenever you listened to me play you remained tranquil. You never sought the spotlight or raised your voice, or tried to speak at all. It was a complete paradox to how you usually behaved and I'm sure Dad would call it nothing short of a miracle, but I came to think that meant that the silence was our special thing.

But now, trying to come up with something to say, I wonder whether we took that silence to far. And I wonder; who is Alan Tracy? Do I even really know you? And that gets me thinking; do any of us really know or understand you? Or are you just the enigma of the Tracy family? And now I look back on all those years and on all those times and I really, really wish I'd opened my mouth and at least started a conversation whilst you still could carry one.

**A/N So there you have it, as you can see the plot bunnies who went on holiday after giving me the first part of this story finally came back to me! I was even thinking about giving Lady P a section, but what do you think? Review pwetty pwease!!!**


	4. Lady Penelope

**A/N Sorry I took so long to update, I took a while deciding whether to post this chapter but thought what the hell. Thanks to all my lovely, lovely reviewers who keep this story alive and continuing!**

**Disclaimer: If it was mine do you think it would EVER come off the airwaves?**

**Warning: um, Lady Penelope is a bit…different in this, I don't truly believe she's like this but thought that it just could-if you **_**really**_** stretch your mind-be interpreted this way. All you die-hard Penny fans, this may not be for you.**

What's so special about you? How can such an unimportant person like you reduce someone as great as Jeff Tracy to his knees with grief? I don't understand. He's always been ridiculously hung up over 'his boys' but this just takes the cake.

The others I suppose I can understand; Scott's always been his wingman, the one he can rely on – why, he's almost a mini-Jeff! And Virgil's art and music really are marvellous to behold; as a cognisor of both I can say that.

John shares the man's love of the stars to the extent that they can watch them all night and talk about them all day; it's rather cute, really. And Gordon being an Olympic gold medallist swimmer must be such a useful thing to have on an island.

But then there's you. Your 'greatest achievement' is to be rather good at driving a car around in a circle; I mean really, it's laughable! If driving was all that great I would have learnt how to do it! So why is he so attached to you?

Oh, I've seen your face on one of those rare occasions when he tells you know, I know how you feel 'rejected', covering up your feelings is another skill you never learnt.

But do you have any idea how lucky you are to have any time at all? For God's sake this is _Jeff Tracy_; ex-astronaut, national hero, head of one of the biggest corporations in the world, millionaire, recluse, leader of the _Thunderbirds_. To have any time with him is to be honoured but he practically lavishes it on you and your brothers. Certainly more than I get.

Do you even know how many times I have been stood up for you? Arrangements I made _months _in advance so that he could be there only to be blown by you?

"I'm so sorry, Penny , but Alan has a really bad temperature. There's no way I can leave him."

I came to think that you did it just to spite me. Always getting ill just before we were due to go out. In fact, just by existing meant more time for you and less for me.

And to top it all off, you're the reason he won't even consider a romantic engagement with me. You know what he told me? He told me that his wife had died bringing him a wonderful gift from heaven and that he could never dishonour her memory by loving another woman.

'Precious gift from heaven'? Don't make me laugh. You're a little monster, is what you are! Now look what you made me do, you made me all flustered. Something a lady should never be. I really do despise you.

I decide to leave at this point lest I give in and let myself go once more. I've kept this all inside for this long, I can continue for a bit longer. Maybe once you die I can 'comfort' Jeff, though God knows why he should be so upset. Children; what's the point in them?

I approach the corner and hear Jeff's voice, putting on a mask of sadness, I turn. He's talking to the nurse who was fussing over the boy earlier and the empathy in their eyes fills me with rage.

"I'm so sorry. I have kids of my own. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you."

She then has the nerve to put her arm around him. He nods and then smiles at her with the smile I've been trying to attain for years, and this… _nobody_ achieves it after only a few minutes! And _darling _Alan was the cause again. He leans into her embrace slightly. And I see red.

**A/N So Lady P has a touch of the green-eyed monster! Please don't hurt me for making her this way!!! starts frantically sandbagging I'll come out again when coughifcough the dust settles, just to let you know all the others won't be this…you know**


	5. Brains

It's not fair

**A/N I'm back!! Sorry about that, I had a very stressful six months where I didn't have the time (or energy) to write, then when I did I found all my plot bunnies had deserted me! Anyway, after a massive writer's block I have tempted them back and here I am!**

**Disclaimer: Mine? laughs hysterically no.**

**Warning: Slight hint of one-sided homosexual love, if you don't like, I recommend you look away**

It's not fair. Here I am at the bedside of a _comatose_ young man - boy maybe - who could easily lose his life and I'm _jealous_. There's so many things wrong with that.

The fact remains though; you have everything. Period. And you don't even know it. Sure your life's not perfect, but hey, it's damn well near it.

For one you have a loving and supportive family; I mean, sure, your Dad's great to me and everything but he's not really my dad. He tries to treat me equally but he's not fooling anyone, least of all himself. I'm important to him and maybe we can even push the boat out and say he, to some extent, cares about me, but whatever he feels is never even going to be half for me as it is for you. You envy my good relationship with him? It's only because there's a certain amount of detachment between us, very professional and all. Can't you see? You only argue because you care so damn much about each other. He desperately wants to keep you safe, you're Jeff's precious baby boy, he positively dotes on you! And you, can't you see the reason he makes you so angry is just because you care so very much; what he thinks about you, how he treats you, even how much attention he gives you (which is a decent amount by the way).

And your brothers; you grew up with them, were raised by them, share the same genes as them. Blood is thicker than water. No matter how hard I try to get them to like me you'll always come first to them. Even if I spend the rest of my life with them I'll never catch up with you in that case. They balance you out, make up for your weaknesses and try and keep you out of trouble without even knowing they're doing it, it's instinctive to them. How can you not realise how much they love you? Or maybe you do, you just don't need to acknowledge it. I wouldn't know; adopted by a professor because of my brains, remember? I'll never know that assumed, constant net that you take for granted, never have that safety net. You get away with so much Alan; daily tantrums, reckless behaviour, rude comments, and everyone takes it in their stride. The worst punishment you get is a lecture from your dad (and only because he cares) and maybe extra chores or more time on 5. For just one of the things you do I'd get chucked off the Island, so it's always the best behaviour from me. What's it like to know that whatever happened to you, wherever you were, you'd have people willing (and probably capable) of ripping the gates of heaven and hell out of their hinges to find and rescue you? To know they'd never give up? I bet that's how you can be so confident, so…you.

You are confident Alan; you'll always try new things, you'll never back down from a challenge, whether it's sky diving, wind surfing, extreme racing or driving prototype rockets and spaceships. It wouldn't matter so much to me if that was it, but it's not. I wonder if you know (or care) that your IQ is nearly as high as mine. That's scary; if you felt like it you could easily take over my job. Luckily you're a well balanced individual who's not willing to devote all his time to one aspect of his talents. Thank God. I sometimes forget how smart you are, you're good at covering it up, until you'll bend over my shoulder one day and make a correction to my elite designs or something. Like you're reminding me, or something. But you wouldn't, your not like that (like me), you're just so innocent, no wonder your family want to protect you from everything.

That nicely brings me on to your love life. It's a good thing Tintin doesn't leave the Island much, she wouldn't be so confident about you if she saw all the looks you get, from girls and boys. There's always someone who approaches you, is willing to show that they want you, no wonder your father keeps you on such a tight leash! With you're golden, gently curled hair, lithe body and adorable cerulean baby eyes…ah yes, there's another thing, my little crush on you. Ah hell, no reason to bring it up or discuss it because-of course- even if you did swing that way I'd still never have you. Yet despite all these things I can't bring myself to hate you. You're like marmite Alan; people either love you and hate you. I guess you can tell which side I fall down on.

**A/N Another chapter done! Next will probably be Grandma, if anyone has any idea of what to do for John I'd be happy to hear your suggestions.**

**Thanks to my wonderful beta Alichay who has to put up with so much, no one will ever understand the torment I put you through.**

**Reviews please! It keeps me typing XD**


End file.
